


Unexpected Reunion

by CJCarson



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:32:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJCarson/pseuds/CJCarson
Summary: Sansa and Tyrion are reunited after many years apart. Tyrion is now the Hand of the Queen while Sansa is at Winterfell with Jon. They are both pleasantly surprised to see each other again. Meeting each other after so long has a therapeutic effect.





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa stared as the Queen entered the hall. Queen Daenerys Targaryen was just as beautiful as all the rumours had claimed.

Dropping into a deep curtsey she greeted the Queen and her retinue. "Welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace. The North, and all of Westeros, is deeply grateful for your help defeating the White Walkers. Without your timely support we all surely would have perished."

Sansa had stayed in Winterfell while Jon took as many men as he could find to the Wall to fight off the White Walkers. Sansa had sent letters to every house she could think of begging for their support in the upcoming war. Many of these had gone unanswered. She thanked all the gods that the Queen had believed her and came with her dragons, saving them all.

Now on their way back South after the war was won the Queen was invited to Winterfell for rest and shelter for her and her men. Jon had said that the Queen was a great lady. After much discussion they had come to the agreement that if Jon, as the proclaimed King of the North, would support her as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In return Jon would give up his title of King and would instead become legitimized as Lord Jon Stark, Overlord of the North.

It was a compromise that left everyone happy.

"Thank you for your gracious welcome, Lady Stark. We are honoured to be here." Queen Daenerys nodded her head in acknowledgement of Sansa's welcome. "May I introduce you to Torgo Nudho, the commander of the Unsullied."

A man steps forward and bows stiffly.

"My translator and closest confident, Missandei."

A beautiful woman steps forward and curtsies, "Lady Sansa."

"and I believe you are acquainted with the Hand of the Queen..."

"Lady Sansa." The Hand stepped into view.

"Tyrion!" Sansa hurried forward and dropped to her knees in front of Tyrion Lannister wrapping her arms around him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tyrion was shocked. He would never have expected so warm a welcome from Sansa Stark. Hesitantly he returned her hug, patting her back gently.

"Oh Tyrion, I had word that you'd been executed," Sansa breathlessly relayed, never ceasing in her hug.

"Merely sentenced, my dear. It's harder to kill me than one might think." Tyrion joked in an attempt to reassure her.

Sansa hugged him harder in remembered dismay, "I abandoned you! When I was told that they accused you of Joffrey's death I felt so guilty. I'm sure my leaving only pointed more fingers towards you. I should never have left"

Tyrion gently pressed her away from their hug, prompting her to look at him. "You made the best choice you could in the circumstances. I never once blamed you for saving yourself. Believe me in that" Tyrion assured Sansa looking into her eyes solemnly.

A cleared throat caused them both to start and look up at the Queen. She had her brows raised in question, "clearly you two are closer acquainted than I had assumed."

Embarrassed with her display, Sansa stood up and moved so she was once again standing beside Jon. "My apologies, Your Grace."

It was Tyrion who said, "Now that you've all met my wife, perhaps we can adjourn for an evening meal."

"Your what?!" Queen Daenerys demanded, exchanging a glance with Missandrei and Torgo Nudho, looking shocked.

Tyrion looked at them sardonically. "My wife. Or at least she was, though I doubt that she remains so."

Sansa smiled at him bitterly as she shook her head, "Lord Baelish had it annulled after he rescued me." Shaking her head she addressed the party, "but this is hardly the place for past history. Come, let us eat and celebrate your triumph at the Wall."


	2. Chapter 2

Daenerys approached Tyrion that night after the feast.

"I never knew that you were married."

"Twice, actually." Tyrion told her, "I've been married twice. Though based on their duration I must say that I am not one suited for marriage."

Daenerys observed Tyrion as he studied the fire intently. "She must have been very young."

"Sansa? I believe she was four and ten the year we were wed."

The Queen was noncommittal as she fished for more information "She must have cared for you a great deal, to marry you so young."

Tyrion snorted derisively, "She was forced to marry me. My father wanted her connection to the North. Our being wed was a punishment for the both of us. Me for being his son and her for being a traitor's daughter."

Tyrion was silent for a long moment.

Reminiscing he eventually revealed, "She was so young when I first met her. Dreamt of knights and princes and being queen. Sweet. Innocent. After being hostage in King's Landing, tormented by Joffrey for every little thing, she somehow managed to retain some of that innocence.

I was hardly a good husband for her, but I did try to shelter as best I could. We were almost friends... at the end."

Daenerys met his gaze "You would be a good friend to have."

Tyrion answered, "after what the Lannisters put that poor girl through, after murdering her family, I hardly expected the welcome that I got. I would have thought she'd be glad to see the back of me."

Looking away Daenerys replied seriously, "she hardly seems sweet and innocent any longer. Perhaps the years have brought her wisdom."

Tyrion looked down, "I fear it was not wisdom that our years apart brought her."


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa took a deep breath before entering the almost empty study. Tyrion was sitting in a chair by the hearth with a book on his lap and an empty goblet of wine on the table beside him. The sight of it made her smile, bringing back memories of watching Tyrion pouring over some book or other in their shared room in King's Landing and drinking himself into a stupor on their wedding night.

Tyrion looked up at the sound of footsteps surprised to see Sansa smiling at him.

"May I join you?" Sansa asked nodding at the seat beside him.

"Of course, my Lady."

"Sansa, Tyrion. Please call me Sansa, we've gone through too much for titles."

"Of course... Sansa" Tyrion replied, smiling wryly at her.

Sansa sat delicately beside Tyrion sharing in his smile. "Tyrion..." she hesitated, not knowing how to ask.

Tyrion waited a few seconds before remarking, "You are no doubt wondering how an odious dwarf such as myself ended up as the Hand of the Queen."

He always was an astute man.

"Not really, no."

"You aren't? I find that hard to believe." Tyrion looked at her sardonically.

"Well, I am not wondering about how you became the Hand of the Queen per say. Frankly, you are a brilliant and just man; every country deserves such a Hand as I know you to be." She responded to his just with honesty. "However, I am wondering how you went from condemned to death to being the trusted advisor of a woman your family sought to kill."

Tyrion was silent for a long minute looking at her. Partly because he was thinking of how best to answer her question, but mostly because he was taken aback by her earnest praise of his character.

"You honour me with your words Sansa." He was silent some more."Truthfully it's quite the adventurous tale. Are you sure you'd like to hear it? It doesn't necessarily reflect the better parts of my character."

Sansa was watching Tyrion steadily. "I'm sure that whatever you did was probably no more than anyone deserved, did I not say that you were a just man?" She smiled at him slightly, "now, I'd like to hear about your adventure. At least, whatever parts of it you feel comfortable sharing with me."

"I need more wine before I start this."

~~~~~~~~

Tyrion looked away from Sansa to stare in to the fire and refill his wine glass before beginning to speak. "As you heard, I was believed to be guilty for Joffrey's death. The only people who believed me to be innocent, at least that I'm aware of, was Jaime, Bronn, and my squire, Podrick. They did what little they could for me but I would only allow so much in case they too fell under Cersei's wrathful gaze. "

Tyrion stopped to take a drink. "You remember what that's like, I suspect"

Tyrion looked at Sansa, who nodded."What you were unaware of, and the nail in my coffin, as it were, was Shea."

"Shea! What about Shea?" Sansa exclaimed, thinking of her friend and handmaiden.

Tyrion looked at her guiltily. "Shea was my mistress. I'd brought her with me from Riverrun. I got her assigned as your handmaiden to keep her safe. You must remember that at the time I did not know you as but a child. I thought the two of you could benefit from each other."

Sansa looked at Tyrion thoughtfully. "You know, she always was a terrible handmaiden." Sansa paused, "But she was a good friend. I'm glad you sent her to me." Sansa was not particularly surprised that Tyrion had kept a mistress during their marriage. He had always been reputed to have a lusty appetite for women. For all that he had treated her with respect and kindness, she had wondered about his refusal to bed her. After everything she'd experienced with Ramsey, she carednary a whit that Tyrion had been unfaithful to her throughout their sham of a marriage.

Tyrion smiled at her, relieved. "She really did love you, Sansa. She told me herself that she'd kill for you."

Sansa smiled back at him, glad that Shea's friendship had been true. "But how on earth was she the nail in your coffin?" she asked curiously.

"As you're no doubt aware, my father disproved of my whoring. Always had. I didn't see Shea as a whore though, I loved her. Which is why I just couldn't let her go." He paused, before admitting straight-faced. "She testified at my trial. Said that I had conspired to kill Joffrey. The nail in my coffin."

Sansa was staring him in horror. "She betrayed you?"

Tyrion avoided her gaze, "I don't know what my father threatened her with to make her do it. But I know that she loved me." He believed that.

Understanding, Sansa gently took his hand. "Of course she did, explains why she was so mad when she thought that we had consummated our marriage."

Tyrion snorted a laugh into his wine at the memory before subsiding into silence. "I murdered her." He blurted out, "Shea. I murdered her."

He looked over at Sansa who was regarding him with calm eyes, waiting for his explanation. "Jaime got me out. He released me from my cell but before I left ... I don't even know what I was planning. I was so angry. I went to my father's chambers. And there she was. In his bed. So I murdered her."

He sat looking into the fire in silence, with Sansa holding his hand. Her silent acceptance of his actions soothed him.

"I killed him too of course. I don't think he thought I had it in me." Tyrion snorted again, "truthfully, I barely even feel guilty about it. Mostly I feel bad because it left poor Tommen with only Cersei as council."

Anyway, Varys smuggled me to Free City of Pentos. Where I was soon identified as Tyrion Lannister and kidnapped to be a present for Queen Daenerys."

"Kidnapped!" Sansa exclaimed startled at the sudden turn in the story, "By whom?"

"Jorah Mormont. He caught me in a brothel of all places." He slanted Sansa a teasing look, "I guess my father was right about me, I can always be found in the nearest whorehouse."

Startled by the quip, Sansa laughed.

"Jorah is a good man," Tyrion continued his story. "He never did believe me when I told him that I was on my way to meet the Queen and he hardly trusted me at all. But he had principles and he was good company.

"We were captured by slavers. They were after my cock, believe it or not."

"Your what!?" Sansa asked disbelieving.

"My cock. Apparently dwarf cocks can fetch a pretty penny. I really had to talk to get out of that one. Jorah Mormont, as you may recall, is a renowned Westerosi fighter." Tyrion added cheekily, "don't worry if you don't remember, I may or may not have said that to save my manhood."

"How did Mormont being a famous Westerosi fighter save your manhood?" Sansa asked with amused curiosity.

"Well, it didn't, but it saved his. Mine was only temporarily saved until the slavers found a cock merchant to prove that there really was a dwarf attached to my cock, thus allowing me to keep my head until we could get away."

"So how did you get away from the slavers?"

"We didn't. Jorah was sold to the fighting pits. The same fighting pits that the Queen had recently reopened. She just so happened to be present when Jorah made his fighting debut."

Sansa concludes the story succinctly, "and once she met you the Queen could not help but be impressed by your logic, knowledge of Westeros and sense of right. So she gave you a chance which eventually led to earning her trust which prompted her to make you Hand of the Queen."

Tyrion nods and toasts her with his wine before taking a sip.

~~~~~~~~

"Podrick helped save me. Did you know that?"

"What?" Tyrion asked, nonplussed by the sudden remark.

"Your squire. Podrick. He helped save me. He was travelling with Brienne of Tarth."

"Ah yes. Brienne of Tarth, who made a vow to your mother to bring you home. I had wondered who Jaime had sent Podrick with. All I knew was that Pod had gotten away from King's Landing."

The two of them lapsed into silence once more.

Sansa stood suddenly, "I'd better be off now, Lord Tyrion. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Tyrion stood as well, "Tyrion, Sansa. Always call me Tyrion. I bid you a good night."

Sansa nodded before retreating.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Aki86 who pointed out my inconsistency between the show and my fic!

"If you don't mind my asking, How did Podrick save you?"

Tyrion had not been particularly surprised to find Sansa already in the study as he walked in after the evening meal. Upon joining her by the hearth he had poured himself a goblet of wine and asked her the question that had been plaguing him all day.

Sansa froze momentarily. For some reason she hadn't foreseen the question and it startled her to be asked. "I was being chased," she said simply.

"Oh?"

Sansa said nothing further.

~~~~~~~~

After several minutes of quiet contemplation Sansa turned to Tyrion, "My apologies. You were so forthright with me about your own adventures I can be no less honest with you." She looked him in the eye, "though my tales seem much less entertaining than your own."

Tyrion took her hand in his, "I must confess that I found very little amusement out of any of it at the time. Truthfully, I find very little in it now, but we each have our defenses, don't we?"

Sansa smiled at him shakily, recalling how frequently he used to joke and use self depreciating humour to make his situation seem lighter.

"Do you remember Ser Dontos? The drunken knight that I persuaded Joffrey not to kill?" Sansa waited for Tyrion's nod, "He approached me a week or so before the royal wedding. He thanked me for saving his life and gave me a necklace, it belonged to his mother he told me. Later I found out that there was actually poison hidden in the necklace. Lady Olenna used it to poison Joffrey."

"Are you telling me that the poison that was used to kill my nephew, the poison that I was blamed for using, was smuggled into the wedding in a necklace _my wife_ was wearing?!" Tyrion was appalled. How had that happened?

Sansa didn't really know how to respond to that. "Yes well, as soon as Joffrey started convulsing ser Dontos showed up and whisked me away." She smiled at him, "he took me to a ship that was headed to the Eeyrie. With Petyr Baelish."

"Petyr Baelish?" Tyrion demanded incredulously, "you trusted Petyr Baelish?"

Sansa smiled bitterly, "he grew up with my mother, and he had been kind to me. My father trusted him."

Tyrion gave her a sharp look, wondering if she knew.

Sansa caught the look, "yes, I know now that he was the one who betrayed my father. But at the time I trusted him."

Sansa slanted a look at Tyrion, "I recall that you have met my aunt Lysa."

"I have had the pleasure of being meeting her, yes."

"So I don't need to explain to you that she was insane." Sansa said bluntly, surprising Tyrion. "She loved Petyr, but was extremely jealous of any other woman in his circle. She saw Peter kiss me and ..."

Sansa paused to take a drink, remembering.

"She tried to throw me out of the moon door. Petyr came in and calmed her, told her that he had only ever loved one woman. My mother. Then he threw her out."

Tyrion privately thought that it couldn't have happened to a nicer woman.

Sansa grinned at him, reading his facial expression. "Yes, I was less than dismayed myself."

Tyrion grinned back at her, startled anew at the beauty of the woman before him.

Sansa sobered, "then after lying to the Lords of the Vale who had come seeking justice for aunt Lysa, Petyr took me North telling me that I would be the Lady of Winterfell, I'd be home. I thought at first that he was going to marry me. I know I look a lot like my mother whom he loved. I figured I would at least be safe with him. When we arrived realized I was mistaken and thought that he was going to marry me to Roose Bolton." She smiled grimly, "I ended up marrying his son, Ramsey."

Tyrion's apprehension had been growing as soon as Sansa had told him that Lysa had been killed. At hearing that she been wed to Ramsey, the Bolton bastard, he moved into full out horror. Without thinking he moved closer and put a sympathetic hand on her thigh before quickly retracting it. This was what had happened to kill the innocence she had managed to retain throughout her time being tormented at King's Landing.

Sansa laughed bitterly not looking at him, "I see the rumours of his ways have reached even you." She hugged herself, "to say that my second marriage was an unhappy one would be a vast understatement."

"My Lady..." Tyrion was at a loss for words. He reached out hesitantly to touch her hand and was surprised when she grasped his hand with hers, holding it tightly.

Sansa gave herself a brief shake, keeping hold of Tyrion's hand. "My foster brother Theon Greyjoy was also a prisoner of Ramsey." She hesitated before admitting, "he was broken."

Tyrion quietly informed her, "Theon and Asha Greyjoy were part of Queen Daenerys' invading armada. I saw how changed he was."

Sansa nodded, "he managed to help me escape, though I know the thought of going against Ramsey terrified him. We weren't going to make it far. The snow was so deep we couldn't help but leave tracks. And his hounds were after us and we had no horses and were wet from crossing the river."

"He was going to find us. We both knew what he was capable of. Death would have been a kindness if he found us." Sansa's eyes were haunted as she thought back to their desperate run through the woods. "Lady Brienne and Podrick saved us. They came just in time."

Sansa looked down at their joined hands and admitted quietly, "Lady Brienne had offered me her protection before. But I turned it down. I knew that she and Podrick would be butchered if I tried to leave with them. Plus afterwards I would be forced to remain with Baelish anyway, but in less pleasant circumstances."

There was really nothing that Tyrion could say.

"Anyway," Sansa continued, "Lady Brienne and Podrick saved us and took me up to Jon at the Wall. Afterward, I convinced Jon to help me get back Winterfell and kill Ramsey." She smiled softly at him then. "And here we are."

Tyrion smiled back, "I'm glad of it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Did it make you feel better?" Sansa asked out of the blue.

Tyrion looked up at her, confused. They had been walking together in relative peace and the question had come out of nowhere.

"Killing your father. Did it make you feel better?"Sansa clarified.

Tyrion nodded to acknowledge the question, though they walked a few more steps before he replied, "My father hated me. He was my father and he hated me. He always treated me with scorn and disgust, he was never able to see anything positive about me, not ever. That being said, he was my father. He made me into the man I am today, though they were rarely happy lessons."

Sansa remembered Lord Tywin's treatment of Tyrion, it was not difficult to imagine how being raised with him as a father would be trying, to say the least.

Tyrion continued, "when I think of my father I mainly feel a mixture between regret and anger. I am angry at the way he always treated me. I regret that we could never be a true father and son. I regret that through my act of killing him I left King's Landing to Cersei. I even vaguely regret the undignified death that I gave him. Did killing him make me feel better? It did for a minute, perhaps an hour of two."

Still looking straight ahead Sansa nodded abruptly to indicate that she understood. "When I killed Ramsey I didn't feel any better." She admitted. "I felt safer, knowing that he was dead and would never hurt me, my people, or any I love again. But it didn't make me feel better"

She smiled suddenly, "but watching him get torn apart by the very hounds that he trained to torture others was a rather poetic justice."

She sobered, "I guess I've been realizing that even though Ramsey is dead it does not undo any of the acts he committed or make any of them less scarring. I'm glad that he is dead, but killing him did not make any of the wounds he inflicted go away."

Tyrion touched her hand, prompting her to stop walking and look him in the eye. "I believe that it is important to remember that which hurts us. Wear it like armour. Allow the past to strengthen us and protect us, not to hurt us."

Sansa was looking at the ground as she admitted to him, "I told Ramsey that his words, his house, his name and all memory of him would disappear."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "Did you? That must have hurt his pride."

That's just it though!" Sansa exclaimed angrily. "How can that be true? I still remember him, I still get nightmares, people still remember his acts with horror. You yourself have said that it's important to remember. It was an empty threat."

"Sometimes I forget how young you are, Sansa. It was a good threat, but memory doesn't disappear overnight. For now Ramsey will be remembered, his acts, his atrocities. But over time those terrible memories will be replaced. Over time the Bolton name will fall into oblivion while House Stark will be carrying on, strong and proud. One day there will be a song composed about the brave Starks who rid the world of an unnamed evil man, but it will be but a story. His actions will fade. His words will fade. His house will fade. And all memory of him will disappear into time."

Tyrion told her very seriously, "The best way to forget Ramsey is to use what he did to make you stronger. The memory of him will eventually disappear, leaving behind those who have been forged stronger than before. You may never fully forget him, Sansa, but you will win over his memory."

Sansa dropped to her knees before Tyrion, tears running silently down her face. Tyrion put his hand on her shoulder and drew her to him, holding her tightly as she cried silently into his tunic.


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa stormed out of Jon's office, incensed. How dare they? She was so overwrought that she nearly tripped over Tyrion.

"My apologies, My Lord. I was not looking where I was going." Sansa said irritably.

Tyrion excused her apologies with a casual wave of his hand before peering at her closely. "Whatever is wrong? You look positively murderous."

Sansa gestured for him to walk with her, intending to lead them to somewhere more private than the busy hallway.

"Jon has informed me that he has been receiving numerous offers for my hand in marriage." She explained stiffly, walking hurriedly. "Many of them seemed to imply that I should be grateful to been seen as marriageable at all after being married twice previously and having borne no children." She stopped to open the door of a rarely used sitting room, ushering him inside.

"Those miserable wretches couldn't bestir themselves to help us when needed, abandoned my brother, turned a blind eye on Ramsey and the Freys but the moment the Starks are in power again they come crawling out of their holes." She continued to pace around muttering under her breath for a moment before collapsing onto a settee and putting her head in her hands.

Tyrion moved closer and tentatively inquired, "does Jon intend to accept any of these proposals?"

Sansa shook her head wearily, "he has promised me that any future marriage I enter will be of _my own_ choosing."

Confused, Tyrion asked her, "if you will not be forced to marry one of these men why are you so angry?"

Sansa sighed, it was a fairly reasonable question. "I don't really know. The idea of people I haven't seen in years cozying up to our family by marrying me. Using my birth to get ahead, as though I have no other value." She looked at Tyrion and admitted, "I've already been married twice solely because of the connections my birth afford me."

Tyrion inhaled sharply.

Sansa rushed to assure him, "I know it wasn't you who viewed me as such so much as it was your father. But still, we would never have been married if it weren't for my last name."

Tyrion nodded. He could hardly disagree with the truth. He sat beside Sansa on the settee.

Breaking from her usual perfect posture Sansa slumped against the back of the settee. Looking at the ceiling she quietly confessed, "it scared me."

"What did? The thought of those men asking for your hand? Jon is a man of honour, he would never go against his word and let you marry outside of your own choosing. You know that."

Sansa's cheeks darkened, still pointedly avoiding eye contact, "No, it wasn't that. It was..." She trailed off unable to continue.

Tyrion touched her chin gently, turning her face towards him. "Sansa, you may tell me anything you wish and I vow to keep your confidence."

"It's the marriage bed." The words spilled helplessly out of Sansa. "I'm afraid of the marriage bed." Her cheeks darkened even more and she pulled her face away from Tyrion.

Standing and walking a few feet away, keeping her back to him she explained, "Many of the letters were talking about keeping the Stark line strong and uniting the families, talking about the children I would have with them. But I don't want to ever share a marriage bed again it is awful and humiliating and it hurts so much." She took a deep breath, continuing quietly, "I don't know how all these women stand to be hurt like that."

~~~~~~~~

Tyrion felt his chest clench painfully. To think that the only intimacy Sansa knew was rape hurt him dreadfully.

"It's not supposed to be like that," he informed her quietly. "It is supposed to be pleasurable."

Sansa scoffed angrily, back still to him, "For the man maybe. Maidens are told that it always hurts at first. We are told to lie back and think of our family, our duties, of the children we'll have. We are told that it will get better. It's a lie. It never gets better. Even if they don't hurt you beforehand once they are inside it's horrible." She whipped around and glared at him scathingly, "You are a man, you can never understand."

Tyrion closed his eyes against the thought of her time with Ramsey. When he opened them again he spoke slowly. "Sansa, Ramsey would never have tried to make it good for you. He was a monster who only knew how to hurt. I _promise_ you that sex can be good for both partners. It can bring a woman pleasure."

Sansa stared at him.

She trusted Tyrion, he was a good man who treated her well. She thought of Shae, Shae would never have allowed anyone to hurt her so if she was Tyrion's mistress, if she loved Tyrion, it stood to reason that Tyrion did not hurt her. She thought of her aunt Lysa and the cries of pleasure she had heard through the walls of the Eeyrie. She thought of Theon, before they left Winterfell, and how he would brag about the whores loving him and his capabilities. Finally she thought of her parents, who had five children together, tried to imagine her father hurting her mother as Sansa had been hurt.

She trusted Tyrion but she also knew what she had experienced and there was nothing even tolerable about it, forget pleasurable.

She trusted Tyrion.

"Prove it."


	7. Chapter 7

"Prove it."

The words rang in the air for a long minute. Completely bewildered at the demand, Tyrion took his time to gather his wits before asking shocked, "...I beg your pardon?"

Sansa straightened her shoulders and met his eye seriously before repeating, "Prove it. You say that sex can be good. And I know that you have the experience to back up that statement, so I am asking you to show me. Because I do not know if I will be able to believe it otherwise."

Tyrion regarded her gravely. She stood before him, shoulders back, chin up, eyes determined. She had never looked better to him that she did at that moment. She was terrified but so strong.

Tyrion was taken aback. He didn't know what to do. What to say. What to tell her. He had definitely never envisioned Sansa challenging him to sleep with her. He was at a rare loss for words. Part of him wanted to jump at the chance to bed her, she was beautiful and young. But he was also thoroughly appalled at himself for wanting to bed her. She was hurt and scared. And to round everything out, the image of Shae on trial telling everybody that he killed the King, his nephew, to get into Sansa's bed. The poisonous words she spouted ran through his head.

As his silence continued Sansa's posture straightened even further, her jaw tightening.

He knew that it could be good for her, for them both, to move forward from the past.

“Sansa…” he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say before she interrupted him.

“Tyrion, please. This is something I need to know. And I trust you. You have always been good to me. You have never lied to me and you have never hurt me.” She glanced down at the floor before looking back up and meeting his eyes again while smiling crookedly.

It was the please that got him. He didn't want Sansa to have to beg, not for anything. She had become incredibly strong minded and he did not want to imply that she did not know her own mind.

"It's just," Tyrion hesitated, "are you sure that this is what you want?"

Sansa gave him the respect of seriously considering his question before she answered. "I don't want to be scared of this forever. You say that it can be good. I trust you and I ask that you prove it to me." She moved to sit beside him on the settee, taking his hand in hers she looked him straight in the face before asking. "Will you take me to bed?"

Tyrion looked at their joined hands before meeting her eyes. He smiled wryly.

"Of course, My Lady."


	8. Chapter 8

Sansa stared at the door. She had been second guessing herself the entire walk here. She lowered the candle and looked around, shuffling her feet in the dark corridor. She thought about the previous day where she and Tyrion sat and talked about this. He had been extremely hesitant to give in and bed her. She understood.

She thought of everything that led her here. To standing outside Tyrion’s door in the dark trying to knock.

~~~~~~~

Tyrion was watching the flickering light under the crack of the door. He knew Sansa was outside. He spared a thought to making it easier on her by opening the door before she could knock. Reason stayed his hand. He wanted this decision to be Sansa’s. The thought of having sex with her made him feel vaguely lecherous. Between Shae’s accusations at the trial, the age difference, and Sansa’s past abuse, he had many reasons to doubt this was a good idea. But then he thought of her face as she challenged him, the determination in her eyes, the spark in them as they discussed their decision...

Anticipation and nervousness warred inside him. He was being given a gift and he knew it. But he needed to make sure that this was her choice. And so he waited, watching the light under the crack of the door.

 ~~~~~~~

She knocked. It was hard. Harder than she thought it would be. Her stomach felt as though it was trying to turn inside out and she felt faint at the rush of blood that ran through her head. The candle shook in her hand and she contemplated turning tail and hurrying back to her room.

The door opened and there stood Tyrion. She stood there blindly for a moment before the sight of him sunk into her jittery brain. As ridiculous as it was, seeing Tyrion in his nightclothes, familiar after their brief marriage, calmed her. It brought back associations of the safe space that he had provided for her, of his kindness. She smiled shakily at him as he gestured her in and closed the door behind her.

Leaning back against the door, Tyrion took a good look at Sansa, noting her shaking hands and flushed face he quietly informed her, "you can change your mind. You can walk out right now without anything happening and no one will think less of you."

It was the reaffirmation of his character that she needed. "No Tyrion. I would like to stay," she assured.

He regarded her gravely from his place by the door. "If at any time you wish to stop, or if something hurts, I need you to tell me. I need you to promise me that before we do anything else."

She nodded. and Tyrion left his spot by the door to stand an arms width away from her.

"Promise me out loud, Sansa," Tyrion prompted. "I need to hear it as much as you need to say it."

Sansa knelt on the floor in front of him, bringing them to eye level. "I promise that if I want to stop or if I am hurting I will tell you."

Reaching out, Tyrion touched her face, vowing: "and I will stop the second the word touches your lips."

He brushed her lips with his fingers. "Is there anything specific that I should avoid doing? Or anything you would like me to do?" Tyrion enquired, gently caressing her face and neck and hair.

Sansa looked at him blankly, confused by the question.

Seeing her confusion, Tyrion explained, "The trick to enjoying sex is knowing what your partner likes and using it as an advantage."

Sansa still looked puzzled.

Tyrion let out a breath before asking gently, "do you like what I'm doing now? Touching your face?" He smoothed a thumb over her eyebrow before lightly dragging it down the side of her neck. "Do you like it when I touch your hair?" Leaving the one hand resting on Sansa's shoulders, thumb just touching the skin on her neck, he brought his other hand up to run his fingers through her hair.

She leaned into his hand whispering, "yes. I like it when you touch my hair." The feeling of hands carding through her hair had always been something she had enjoyed. Though it was usually a maid brushing her hair.

Tyrion kept gently combing her hair through his fingers as he considered this. "I have an idea."

~~~~~~~

At Tyrion's prompting they moved to the bed positioning Sansa sitting with her feet over the side while Tyrion stood on the bed behind her playing gently with her hair. After Sansa relaxed from the gentle combing, he moved to massage her shoulders and back, familiarizing her with his touch.

Sansa groaned in pleasure, her tension melting away under his gentle ministrations. She dropped her head to her chest, granting him greater access to massage her neck. Being given this wordless sign of pleasure Tyrion brushed away her hair before leaning forward and kissing her neck.

Sansa gave a nearly imperceptible shudder, liking the feeling of Tyrion's lips on her sensitive neck.

~~~~~~~

"May I kiss you?" Tyrion's murmur against her neck was low and husky. In response, Sansa rolled to her knees facing him, cupping his head with her hands. Tyrion remained still, letting Sansa set the pace. With eyes wide open she slowly lowered her lips to his.

It was...nice. Pleasant. Tyrion's lips were soft against Sansa's. Breaking from the kiss, they studied each other for a moment before Tyrion gently grasped her shoulders and brought their lips together once more. This kiss was different. This time, rather than remaining passive, Tyrion took control. Not demanding, but coaxing a response from her.

And respond she did, albeit tentatively, as the kiss deepened.

Sansa flushed when Tyrion's tongue touched her own. She was lost in sensation. She had never been kissed like this before and she was definitely enjoying it.

When they next parted Sansa realized her fingers were deep in Tyrion's hair and she was clutching him to her. His body was pressed against her own, his hands grasping her waist. She could feel him hard against her stomach and couldn't stop herself from glancing down.

~~~~~~~

Seeing her look down at his cock, her face flushed from their kiss, Tyrion remarked, "A natural reaction from kissing someone as beautiful as you." She didn't look scared or apprehensive, she looked curious. He took that as a good sign. "Would you like for us to undress now, Sansa?"

She looked back up to his face. "Can you go first?"

Tyrion nodded. He well understood about how vulnerable one could feel being naked around someone dressed. He thought furiously that it was exactly the type of power game that her bastard husband had probably enjoyed.

He released her and took several steps to the center of the bed. He didn't let it show but he was nervous. As a dwarf, he spent most of his time being naked with women who were paid to appreciate his deformed body. He was afraid of seeing scorn or disgust on Sansa's face once he disrobed. He took a deep breath. Then, without giving himself time to think, he rid himself of his nightclothes.

~~~~~~~

Sansa watched him quickly shed his nightclothes. Realizing Tyrion was nervous too, she kept her face blank as she looked over his naked body. It was strangely proportioned, but it was beautiful. Smiling at him, she reached out to tentatively touch his surprisingly muscular arm, "You look much stronger unclothed," she informed him teasingly. Trying to convey her acceptance of him through her eyes.

Tyrion left out a gusty breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relieved that she had not turned away disgusted at his shrunken body. "Many a day spent writing missives while drinking heavily."

She arched an eyebrow at his depreciating humour responding, "I believe it is the dragon taming and kingdom wrangling, not the drinking." She smoothed a hand across his well-developed shoulder remarking idly, "Though I've heard the pen is mightier than the sword."

~~~~~~~

Sansa knew that it was her turn to undress. Taking a deep breath she got off the bed and reached for the fastenings of her nightdress. The look on Tyrion's face as she stepped out of her nightdress made her blush profusely. She smiled and stepped closer to the bed reaching for him. With her on the floor their faces were almost level. He reached out with something close to awe, stroking her face.

"You are exquisite, Sansa. Absolutely beautiful."

Sansa smiled and leaned in for another kiss that quickly deepened into something more serious. Their naked bodies were touching, rubbing against each other. Their hands wandered, stroking each others' arms and backs.

Breaking the kiss, Tyrion grasped Sansa's hand and drew her onto the bed with him.

~~~~~~~

Sansa kneeled hesitantly on the bed, her hand in Tyrion's. She wasn't sure how to position herself. Ramsey usually had her on hands and knees, likening her to a bitch wolf. She was uncertain what Tyrion would want. She didn't know if she could bear it if she wasn't able to see his face. But she was unsure of how to express a preference.

Seeing her hesitate and guessing the reason, Tyrion instructed, "Lie on your back. It will be the most comfortable for you and you will always be able to see what is going on."

Her shoulders going loose in relief Sansa moved to lay her head on the pillows.

~~~~~~~

Lying on the bed looking down her body at Tyrion Sansa had a strange feeling that she was a giant. All of her limbs felt unwieldy and cumbersome. She was acutely aware of her size in comparison to him. As all of her previous experiences had left her feeling unbearably small and vulnerable it was a new feeling.

Sensing her unrest, Tyrion crawled up the bed and they kissed some more until she relaxed. Tyrion let his hands wander as they kissed, stroking her breasts and torso, caressing her face and hair.

Feeling Sansa's nipples harden Tyrion broke the kiss, moving down her neck to tease her breasts with his mouth. Sansa's hand came up to cup the back of his head as he licked and sucked at her nipples.

His hands swept along her torso, smoothing along her stomach and sides. When his hands felt the soft hair at the juncture of her thighs, he stopped and looked up. She met his gaze, looking flushed and hazy, "Yes," she answered the question that hadn't left his lips.

His hand delved into the hair, reaching her inner warmth. She wasn't quite as wet as he had hoped but she was definitely responding to him. He used his fingers to gather some of her wetness before moving to circle her clitoris. At the touch Sansa arched of the bed, gasping in surprised pleasure.

She got more and more aroused as his hand continued to slide between her legs, fingers touching her, his tongue pleasuring her breasts. Her body grew tense, her hand desperately gripping at Tyrion's back, her legs moving restlessly. All at once pleasure overwhelmed her and she cried out softly, body shaking and clenching beyond her control. When the tremors ended she looked down at Tyrion in confused wonder. "What..." she trailed off not even sure what she was trying to ask.

Tyrion was looking at her with soft eyes and a small smile. He moved up the bed to stroke her face and hair, giving her a kiss. "That is what it is supposed to feel like."

"But you didn't..."

"No. And I don't have to, I can come without being inside of you if that is what you prefer."

Sansa sat up suddenly, "Surely you are jesting. It just started getting good. You are not allowed to stop now."

She was half teasing and half commanding and completely desirable. Tyrion swallowed before grinning at her, his cock throbbing in anticipation. "As you command."

~~~~~~~

Urging her to lie back on the bed Tyrion kissed her before moving between her thighs. He was extremely aware of Sansa watching him as he reached between her legs, touching her again, spreading her wetness around and gathering it on his hand.

Spreading her wetness along his cock to ease his way, Tyrion took himself in hand and began pressing forward. His eyes were torn between watching himself enter Sansa and her face, watching her eyes.

At his first penetration she had tensed slightly, her eyes closing briefly before opening with a look of stubborn determination. She parted her legs more. As he continued to press inside he brought a hand up, using his fingers to massage her clitoris.

Fully seated inside her Tyrion stopped. He ran his hands along her thighs and waist, waiting for her to adjust to having him inside her. Once she relaxed, he asked, "How are you? Shall I continue?"

Sansa was taking a moment to evaluate herself. She wasn't in pain. There was a man inside her and she wasn't in pain at all. There had been some discomfort when Tyrion first started but the slight burn quickly turned to pleasure when he started fingering her. At Tyrion's question she offered a huge smile and a: "Continue please."

Tyrion smiled back, rocking out of her before thrusting back in.

~~~~~~~

Sansa drifted, her mind completely caught up in what her body was feeling. Feeling Tyrion stroking in and out, his hands grasping her legs. It felt good. She watched Tyrion, every movement he made echoing through her body. When Tyrion started to speed up, his thrusts becoming unsteady Sansa gasped, body arching at the new feelings it sent through her.

Tyrion suddenly pulled out of her spending himself on the sheets beside her. Sansa's body shuddered in the aftermath as tears of joy welled in her eyes.

~~~~~~~

Breathing deeply, Tyrion looked up to Sansa's face, seeing tears running down her cheeks he practically threw himself away from her. "Sansa! Why didn't you say that you were hurting! I would have stopped immediately."

Sansa reached for him, smiling through her tears. "It's didn't hurt at all. That's why I'm crying."

Tyrion stared at her trying to gauge her honesty. Upon finding nothing but contentment in her eyes he joined her at the head of the bed, wiping away her tears before lying down next to her. Sansa repositioned herself so the her head was resting on his shoulder, her arm curled around him.

She spoke into the silence, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For sharing this with me. You were right. It can be good." And with that, Sansa closed her eyes and let the feeling of his hand combing through her hair lull her to sleep.


End file.
